


Chasing the Sunlight

by Imagine036



Series: We'll Fall but We'll Grow [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: At Long Last, F/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagine036/pseuds/Imagine036
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to The Storm After the Calm. When Felicity returns to Starling City, nothing is the same. Can she repair the fractured relationships she left behind? And, perhaps more importantly, can she repair the fractures to herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Ok guys. It's been a LONG time, but I'm finally starting to post this! It is a sequel to The Storm After the Calm, so read that one first or you will be confused!
> 
> As I've progressed through writing the first few chapters, I've discovered a few things about this sequel. First, Felicity's chapters are focused more on the flashbacks, while Oliver's are focused more on the present day. Also, because of the style of this installment in the We'll Fall But We'll Grow series, the Olicity relationship will be slow going. The flashbacks take up quite a few more words than I expected them to, so the relationship mending is taking a bit longer than I initially anticipated. I don't want to sweep anything under the rug, and Felicity's betrayal won't be something gotten over within a day of her return. So, just a fair warning to all you readers left out there.

It’s been one year, two months, four days, seventeen hours, and twelve minutes.

 

Not that he’d admit to knowing that. He’s tried unsuccessfully to forget, to stop the clock that’s been running in his head ever since he opened his eyes on the morning that simultaneously feels like yesterday and a decade prior. No matter what he’s doing or where he is; he could be at home, suffering through yet another family dinner, or at QC, pretending to pay attention during a meeting. It’s constantly running.

 

The only thing that brings him any semblance of peace, of calm, is putting on the hood. As the Arrow, all thoughts not directly related to the mission at hand disappear, leaving his mind blissfully blank. Unfortunately, the second he lowers the green fabric and pulls off the mask, the clock resumes its ever-present ticking as though it never stopped. It’s unavoidable.

 

It’s been one year, two months, four days, seventeen hours, and fourteen minutes.

 

The city has been quiet lately. Too quiet. Some might revel in the calm, but it unsettles Oliver. His life isn’t calm. It will never be calm. This life he’s chosen, cloaked in the shadows, is one continuous storm after another. There is no light peeking through the clouds, no respite from the downpour. He thought there was, once, but he was wrong.

 

_The sun streaming across his face brings him slowly back to awareness. It takes him a moment to clear the fuzzy, warm feeling of sleep from his brain and recognize the slide of the sheets across his bare skin. It brings back the memories of the night before, a grin stretching his lips even before his eyes fully open._

_His blissful ignorance doesn’t last much longer, as the next thing he becomes aware of is the lack of familiar weight on his chest. They fell asleep with Felicity cradled to his chest, as usual, but she’s notably absent. It isn’t enough to draw worry just yet; sometimes they shift during the night. Rolling to his side and finally peeling his eyes open, his eyebrows draw together at the empty space beside him._

_His stomach is already sinking as he sits up and tugs on his underwear, padding to the bathroom and closet to check for her._

_“Felicity?” He calls out, thumb and forefinger rubbing together anxiously at each passing second. “Are you here?”_

_The silence is answer enough._

It’s been one year, two months, four days, seventeen hours and twenty minutes.

 

“Oliver, we’ve got a location on Bailey.”

 

Sighing in relief, he pulls the mask down over his face and snaps the hood up. The incessant ticking of the clock recedes to the background.

 

**************************************************

 

“Take a left on Merchant.”

 

Oliver complies without question, leaning to the left to turn the bike when he nears the appropriate intersection. A car blares its horn at him, surprised and angry at his sudden move, but he ignores it, already thinking ahead to his next target.

 

Donovan Bailey. Forty-five. Looks innocent enough on the outside with his 2.5 kids and a dog, but the money he uses to provide for his family is where the intrigue lies. He’s been using his moderately successful chain of dry cleaners to funnel profits from his _very_ successful side business in drug smuggling. It’s a rather intricate operation, part of the reason it took them so long to work out the details. The other part…

 

_He pounds down the stairs into the foundry, his last hope. Maybe she thought of something, maybe she came straight here and by the time he gets downstairs…_

_He knows he’s kidding himself, unable to stomach the reality of what she’s done until it’s staring him in the face. After all her talk of ‘finding another way’ and ‘never giving up’…_

 

No. He isn’t going there. He has a job to do, and dwelling on the past won’t help. The hood is up, his mind needs to be blank.

 

Pulling the bike up to the apartment complex Bailey’s GPS brought up, he dismounts and automatically scans the area. No obvious threats on the outside, but he can see two guards posted at the third window from the left on the second floor. That must be where Bailey is.

 

“Thermal is showing about five men on the west end of the second floor. That’s probably where the action is.”

 

Oliver nods, pressing the comm link to reply. “Affirmative. I see two guards from the ground. I’m going in.”

 

“Oliver, shouldn’t you-”

 

“There’s no sense waiting around. Let’s do this.”

 

He receives no further argument from the other end of the comm, but pauses nonetheless before taking his next step toward the building. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle, almost as though someone is watching him. Snapping his head around to survey his surroundings reveals nothing out of the ordinary, however. There’s no one there, just like there was no one there last night, either. Clearly, the long nights and lack of sleep are starting to catch up to him. It was bound to happen eventually.

 

He needs to get his head back in the game. It takes a physical shake of his head to clear the remnants of the feeling before he’s pulling an arrow from his quiver and advancing on the building.

 

**************************************************

 

The bodyguards are dispatched too quickly, and Donovan Bailey barely puts up a fight. The middle-aged businessman throws only a couple of half-hearted punches before dropping to the ground and folding in on himself. It’s disappointing and leaves Oliver itching for a larger fight. He has too much pent up tension lately, and none of the criminals they’ve gone after have been worthy opponents. He can feel it coiling in his gut, waiting to explode at the least opportune moment, like the next time Thea suggests he try going out on a date. He’s done dating.

 

“Call Lance for a pick-up.” His command is short and to the point, and he wastes no time disconnecting the comm afterward. He isn’t in the mood for chitchat.

 

The ride back to the foundry is too short, and he briefly checks in to relay his intentions to take a few laps around the surrounding blocks to cool his buzzing adrenaline. It’s better for everyone if he takes the edge off.

 

It’s been one year, two months, four days, eighteen hours, and thirty-three minutes.

 

Needing to move, Oliver takes a running start, leaping to the closest rooftop effortlessly. He gets lost in the rhythm of his feet pounding the asphalt, occasionally interrupted by trickier manoeuvres requiring the use of his hands to pivot or launch his body forward. He’s so absorbed in the physicality of it all that his body stops before his brain can understand why. It’s the hairs on the back of his neck standing up once more that trigger his awareness. Turning to his right, he catches a glimpse of a shadow slipping behind the outlet for a set of stairs on the same rooftop. Someone _is_ following him.

 

Squaring his jaw, he reaches back for an arrow, glad he hadn’t decided to abandon his weapons with his bike. It isn’t until he’s got the bow pointed in the direction of the stairwell entrance that he speaks. “Show yourself.”

 

He isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it isn’t a repeat of a scene that played out so long ago. The masked woman clad in black leather and a blonde wig is enough to get him to lower his bow as she steps into view. Her strides are shorter and less confident this time, but it still reminds him of the last time they were in this position. That time, it was to warn them against pursuing the Ghost. This time…

 

What is she doing here? He hasn’t seen her in over a year, and suddenly she pops back up and follows him around? It’s disorienting, the odd sense of déjà vu coupled with the dread growing in the pit of his stomach. She’s here alone, and despite his attempts to remain unaffected by that, it worries him.

It’s been one year, two months, four days, eighteen hours, and forty-five minutes.

 

His voice is hoarse from disuse when he finally manages to speak. “Sara.”

 

The familiar bite of the lip and shift of her weight gives her away a split second before she brings her hand up to tug the mask and wig off in one smooth motion. “Not exactly.”

 

The clock stops ticking at one year, two months, four days, eighteen hours, and forty-six minutes.

 

“Felicity?”

 

To say he’s once again floored is an understatement. His brain short-circuits as she stands before him, dressed in Sara’s leathers, her eyes shifting to land on everything except him. Upon closer inspection, though, he realizes it isn’t solely a product of nerves as he initially assumed. She’s cataloguing their surroundings, calculating the quickest entry and exit points the way he does when approaching a new area. The way Sara does. It bothers him more than he expected.

 

When her eyes finally find his face, she gives him a tremulous smile, wringing the wig in her hands. “Hi.”

 

For some reason, the word irritates him, and Oliver gladly latches on to the feeling. In the hurricane of emotions now crowding his mind, anger is the easiest. “That’s all you have to say?”

 

Felicity cringes, fingers tightening their grip on the false blonde strands. “Look, I know it’s been a while…”

 

“A while?” He snaps, incredulous. “You were supposed to be gone a year, Felicity. It’s two months past that. Where the hell have you been?”

 

“You’re upset. I get it. You should be.” Her voice is too calm, too measured, but her eyes darting around betray the unruffled manner she is trying to project. She’s nervous, but also afraid. “Look, I know there’s probably a lot you want to say to me, and there’s a lot I need to say to you, but right now isn’t the time for that.”

 

“Then why are you here?” He demands, his brain working overtime trying to puzzle it all out.

 

She casts her eyes around one final time before locking them on his and Oliver has to force himself not to recoil at what he sees. The eyes he remembers, the ones he falls asleep picturing and wakes up wishing for, are bright and captivating, infectious with their joy. They sparkle. These… These aren’t Felicity’s eyes. New horrors have taken root within them, things he can only guess at. Things he wishes she didn’t have to carry with her. Things far worse than her father’s apparent suicide.

 

When she answers his question, her voice is wrong, too, more than it already was. It reminds him of the Felicity who methodically dismantled Diggle’s gun and fired it at the target with no hesitation, the Felicity who spoke of her father with no emotion. It reminds him of the Felicity he thought she’d let go.

 

“My mother is missing. So is Sara. Ra’s took them. I need your help to get them back.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the reviews and support!

It's more awkward than she expects, facing him after all this time. Felicity will readily admit she wasn't sure precisely  _what_  to expect when she returned to Starling, and will grudgingly confess to following Oliver for a couple of days before finally working up the nerve to reveal herself tonight. She isn't stupid; she knew he'd sensed someone trailing him, but she just couldn't bring herself to get too close. She'd been too afraid of his reaction. Still is, really, because he hasn't actually  _reacted_  yet. 

 

He's holding his cards close to the vest, or perhaps jacket is a more appropriate term. The tense set of his shoulders and rigid posture don't relax at the sight of her like they used to, and it hits her like a punch to the gut. Perhaps she was wrong; perhaps she underestimated just how different things would be when she returned. 

 

* * *

 

_She wakes to the first inklings of light creeping in the window. In the soft glow, she can just make out the peaceful, relaxed expression resting on his face in his slumber. He looks completely at ease as they lay in a tangled mess of naked limbs, and the significance of it is not lost on her. Oliver rarely finds peace these days. Warmth bubbles in her chest to see him so stripped of his guards, even in sleep. He's... beautiful. Not the best descriptor for a man, but there's no other word for him in this instant. This is how she wants to remember him._

 

_The thought strikes her hard, a mental slap to the face. Her brain is already subconsciously choosing moments to remember and ones to push away. She's leaving. Despite what she told Oliver earlier, she knows the truth of the statement. Sara said Ra's al Ghul wants her, and Ra's al Ghul always gets what he wants. There's no way they can avoid this, and she's starting to question if it's even a good idea to keep trying. Whatever Ra's may be planning, it can't be good. Maybe going along, just to get more information on his plan, is the best course here._

 

_And just like that, she comes to a decision._

 

_She tells herself it's for the best as she slips out from under his arm, freezing momentarily as he shifts at the sudden loss of her weight. She tells herself he'll understand as she slips on yoga pants and a blue tank top. She doesn't want to put him through the pain of watching her walk away. She tells herself she's doing this for him when she zips her suitcase shut. She's saving him from another goodbye to add to the long list of those he's already said. She's certain of it as she tucks her arms into his grey sweater she's grown so fond of, unable to resist bringing it along. She'll need a physical reminder of him where she's going._

 

_As she slips out the door, she steels her resolve. She's doing this for the greater good. This is the legacy her father left her, and she needs to fulfill it. Ra's al Ghul wants her and she wants to know why. That's all there is to it. It’s not like she’s just disappearing forever. She’ll come back._

 

_She pulls her phone from her pocket, climbing into her car and twisting the key in the ignition as she waits for her call to be answered. The voice on the other end is only vaguely fogged with sleep when she picks up._

 

_Felicity wastes no time steering the car onto the main road before she can second guess herself. "Sara. I'm ready."_

 

* * *

 

She supposes it makes sense, things being different. She isn’t the same person who left last year and clearly neither is he. It was foolish of her to think otherwise.

 

Felicity takes a deep breath, trying to push past the tension that’s been thickening between them since she revealed herself. Her words draw his attention, just as she hoped they would, but they also prompt a withdrawal. The emotion vacates his eyes almost immediately, hidden behind a wall of laser focus. Whatever personal issues are between them are pushed to the side for the moment, left to simmer under the surface. It’s what she wanted, but she finds herself disappointed nonetheless.

 

“How?” He finally asks, eyebrows tugging together. The question is clipped and cold, the epitome of professionalism.

 

Felicity glances around the rooftop, her stomach crawling with unease at how exposed they are. Anyone could be listening, watching, waiting…

 

“Can we go somewhere less… open?” She implores, clenching her fist at her side.

 

Oliver doesn’t reply right away, his eyes flicking over her as though sizing her up, an edge of disbelief still present. He’s looking at her like he would a stranger, something she wasn’t prepared for in the least. Although she should have been since she certainly feels like one.

 

Eventually, he nods once. “Let’s go down to the foundry.”

 

She returns the nod stiffly, replacing the wig and mask. The second she does, it’s like a shield coming back down to match his. The careful, League-instilled control returns as she conceals her identity once more. She came here with a plan, a mission, and she needs to remember that. There are more important things at stake than their fractured relationship. Her focus needs to stay on finding her mother and Sara, as difficult as it is with everything warring for her attention.

 

Oliver turns without another word, moving to the edge of the roof before pausing and swiveling his head back to her.

 

“Can you…?” He trails off awkwardly, indicating the drop to the alley below.

 

Felicity’s scoffing before she can stop herself, giving in to the instincts of her League persona. You don’t survive Nanda Parbat without the correct attitude. “I spent eleven months with the League of Assassins. I can handle climbing off a roof.”

 

She closes the distance to the edge, barely sparing Oliver a glance as she passes him on the way. There’s no hesitation on her part to drop over the edge, scaling down the fire escape. Her feet hit the ground at the same time as Oliver’s despite repelling being faster than her method. He must have stayed back to watch her descent.

 

Even though she just finished telling herself not to get distracted, Felicity can’t resist a quick glance to gauge his reaction. She’s thrown a lot at him in the past few minutes, from her reappearance to the news of their missing loved ones. She can’t help but wonder if scaling down a fire escape is what will push him over the edge. Judging by his startled, accusatory stare, it just might be.

 

And then her words catch up with her. Eleven months. Dammit. She wasn’t supposed to say that. Not now. She had a _plan_ for how to tell him and it didn’t involve a slip of the tongue.

 

“I’ll explain inside,” she tells him, resigned. Nothing is going according to plan, apparently.

 

It takes him a second to recompose himself but once he does he leads her to the back entrance. She doesn’t miss the subtle shift of his body in front of the keypad, the implication another punch to the gut. He’s hiding the code from her, like she couldn’t crack it in about five seconds flat. Oliver doesn’t trust her anymore.

 

A small, self-deprecating voice in the back of her mind asks why he should, given what she pulled. Trust is earned, and she broke his. There’s no coming back from that, is there?

 

* * *

 

_Sara greets her with a wary expression, arms crossed and eyes searching for any trace of ulterior motives._

_“So…” Felicity says, trying to ease the awkward tension. “What happens now?”_

_“First, you tell me why the hell you’re doing this,” Sara responds, quirking a brow and pursing her lips._

_Felicity falters. “Wh-What do you mean?”_

_“You know what I mean. The last time we talked, you three were still looking for a way out of this. And yet here you are. In the first light of morning.”_

_Felicity bites her lip, avoiding eye contact. “There aren’t any loopholes; you know that. Besides, I want to know what Ra’s has up his sleeve. Seems like the only way to learn that is to go with you.”_

_Sara studies her for another minute, non-plussed. Felicity’s skin crawls under the other woman’s scrutiny._

_“What?” She finally demands._

_“You know I wasn’t asking in general. I want to know why you’re leaving_ like this _.”_

_She swallows thickly. “It’s better this way.”_

_“It will break his heart.”_

_“Watching me walk away will shatter it.”_

_The tense standoff that follows is nearly unbearable. Sara stares at Felicity and Felicity stares right back, a battle of wills Felicity is sure she won’t win._

_“Keep telling yourself that.”_

 

* * *

 

Giving herself a mental shake and forcing herself to _focus_ , she follows Oliver down the familiar set of stairs to the basement. It’s been so long since she’s been down here, yet it feels like she just left yesterday. This whole night is disconcerting in the worst possible way.

 

“Hey, man, where were-” Digg’s voice cuts off when he registers her trailing Oliver down the steps. “Sara?”

 

Felicity sighs, regretting her leather apparel once again. It may have been the smart choice while in the League, but it’s damned inconvenient now. She isn’t as nervous to reveal herself this time, though, pulling off the disguise and discarding it on the table as Oliver continues to the glass case to put his bow away. He doesn’t even pause to explain the situation to Diggle or check to see what she does.

 

“Felicity.”

 

“Hi John.” Her voice is too small, the words too inadequate. What exactly does one say when revealing themselves to friends they haven’t seen in over a year? Especially when you’re such a different person than you were when you left?

 

John stares back in shocked silence for a full twenty seconds before finally deciding on a reaction. His stance shifts, feet spreading to shoulder-width, hands clasping in front of him respectfully. One nod, a dip of his chin to acknowledge her. “It’s been… a while.”

 

She tries not to flinch at his thinly veiled rebuke. He’s hurt as well, but Diggle’s hurt has never manifested as anger the way Oliver’s does. No, Diggle’s hurt is much worse. He’s… disappointed in her, and she has no idea how to go about fixing that. At least anger gives her a place to start. At least there’s emotion in anger. Disappointment is… neutral. Unbiased. Not clouded by something so close to love as hatred.

 

If there’s one thing she knows without a doubt about John Diggle, it’s that his disappointment is hard to recover from. She will have to earn his trust back just as she will have to earn Oliver’s. But those are matters better left for later, when things have settled. She’ll have time to make this right. For now, all she can give them is the truth. The facts as they stand right now.

 

“Sara and I were on our way here to ask for your help when she disappeared,” she tells them, eyes roaming the foundry. The layout is different; there’s a new training dummy in the corner, and a new grindstone by the workbench. What draws her attention, though, is the second glass case across from Oliver’s. Her eyes linger on it curiously before movement from Oliver draws her attention. He’s shifted to lean against the glass case holding his bow, arms crossed and hood down, staring but not really seeing her.

 

The buzzing of the overhead door interrupts them and Felicity whirls toward the unexpected sound, crouching into a defensive posture instinctively. Her hand goes for the collapsed staff holstered to her leg, but Diggle and Oliver aren’t leaping into action. In fact, they seem totally unruffled by the door opening. What they _do_ seem startled by, however, is her reaction to it.

 

“Hey, Digg, is Oliver back y-” A foreign, male voice cuts off at the unfamiliar blonde woman in leather. It takes him a second to place her. “Felicity? What…. What’s going on?”

 

Felicity mirrors the shocked expression of the intruder, pretty sure her eyebrows have disappeared into her hairline as she turns to Oliver for confirmation. She almost can’t believe she’s seeing the young man dressed in red leather. “So you brought Roy into it after all.”

 

Something flickers behind Oliver’s eyes, just for a second, and she knows he’s remembering the debates they had on the topic before she left. It’s gone the next instant, though, replaced with a stony expression. “We needed a third.”

 

She returns his stare for a few seconds, unsure what she’s waiting for. When it becomes clear she won’t get it, she turns back to Roy.

 

“So you’re the woman in black,” Roy surmises, his tone clearly impressed but harbouring a hint of doubt. “No offense, Blondie, but I always thought you were more into the tech side of things, not the… leather-wearing part.”

 

She swallows, acutely aware of the tension in the room ratcheting up impossibly higher. “I a- I _was_. I’m not the woman in black you’re referring to. That’s Sara. I… spent some time away this past year. With her.”

 

“And you came back in her costume?” He asks, confused.

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

“We’ve got time,” Digg cuts in, crossing his arms and fixing her with a look.

 

She’s about to open her mouth to respond when Oliver cuts her off. “No, we don’t. Not if Sara and your mother are missing. That _is_ why you came here, right? For our help?” She nods. “Then we should focus on finding them. Nothing else matters.”

 

She’d be lying if she said his disinterest didn’t sting.

 

* * *

 

_She stares out at the city while Sara makes the last of the travel arrangements. It's really starting to hit her, what's happening. The decision was made so abruptly, and carried through in such a focused manner, that she really hasn't had time to stop and think about all it entails. She's going. Voluntarily. For a year._

 

_"It's time." Sara's voice startles her, softer than it was before she stormed out earlier. The other woman is looking at her sympathetically when she turns back to reply, like she understands what's going through her head. "_ _You know, when I first came back, I left without a word to my father. I told myself the same thing as you, that it would be easier on him if I didn’t put him through the goodbye. I didn’t realize until later on that I left the way I did because it was easier on_ me _. I didn’t want to have to say goodbye to him, didn’t want to walk away from him because I wasn’t sure that I could.”_

_Felicity’s breath catches. The words are hitting too close to home._

_Sara reaches out, squeezing her forearm. “I'll give you a minute. Make sure you leave your phone."_

 

_Felicity's eyes drop to the device clenched in her hand. She hadn't thought of that, but nods nonetheless._

 

_When she's alone, the voice in her head, the one she's been trying to repress ever since she slipped out of Oliver's bed a little over an hour ago, breaks through all of her excuses. Sara’s right. She may be doing this to understand Ra's endgame, but leaving like this, disappearing in the dawn... It isn't for him. It's for herself. She's too cowardly to stay, to physically turn her back on him the way she's assured him she never will._

 

_She can't do it, and so she's doing this. But she can't just leave. Not without a trace._

 

_She's dialing before really thinking it through, hoping he's awake, praying he'll answer. He turned his phone off earlier in the night to eliminate all chances of being interrupted, but maybe...._

 

_Voicemail._

 

_She chokes out a sob at the beep, remaining silent for a beat before leaving an, "I'm sorry," and ending the call. She can’t say what she wants to in a voicemail. There’s not enough time, and it’s not fair of her to leave him with all those words for a year. Tears streak down her cheeks as she powers down the device, removes the battery, and leaves both items on one of the crates Sara was using as a table._

 

_It's time._

 

* * *

 

“Oliver’s right,” she agrees, forcing herself back to the matter at hand. “The details aren’t important right now.”

 

She doesn’t really want to get into the details anyways. Not all of them. She can hardly manage to think about everything that happened, let alone talk about it. If they knew… Deep down, she knows they won’t judge her for what she’s done, but she can’t bear the thought of them never quite looking at her the same way again. She’s already seen it starting with the way Oliver eyed her on the roof. She can’t let it go any further.

 

“Felicity?”

 

Diggle’s voice and a mental shake pull her back to reality before she can drown in her spiralling thoughts. Her mind’s ability to get away from her has gotten worse in the past year. She misses the days it was just internal rambles about the new program she was designing or stray innuendos that escaped her lips more often than not. These days, her thoughts take decidedly dark turns, ones she isn’t sure how to deal with.

 

She blinks. “Sorry. Where were we?”

 

Diggle’s brows crease, arms dropping to his sides. “You were about to explain what the hell is going on.”

 

“Right,” she mutters to herself, trying to pull it together. Nothing is going according to plan. She was supposed to be calm, cool, and collected, yet she’s unravelling at the seams with every passing second. Trying a new strategy, she takes a deep, calming breath and zeroes in on her computers. The familiarity of the sight centers her. No matter where she is, whether she’s surrounded by peace or chaos, her computers are constant. It’s easier to focus on them as she finally starts in on the story she has to tell.

 

“Sara and I have been on the run from the League for three months.”

 

The silence that greets her revelation is deafening. She can feel the tension kick back up as even Roy snaps to attention. Her eyes dart to Oliver of their own accord, needing to see his reaction. He’s drawn himself back to his previous rigidity, no longer leaning against the glass in a show of ease. It’s his penetrating stare that captures her attention, though. His gaze locks to hers, blazing in anger, accusation, and something she can’t quite place.

 

“Why?” He bites out, finger and thumb rubbing together anxiously.

 

Felicity swallows thickly before forcing the words out. “Because Ra’s al Ghul wants to kill me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok, so just a couple of notes before we dive in. As I’m writing this, I’m realizing that Oliver’s chapters will be more focused on the present day while Felicity’s will contain more flashbacks. Mostly because Felicity’s flashbacks are more interesting, but also because there’s more story to tell on Felicity’s end in the flashbacks. Most of Oliver’s conflict will be in the present, brought on by Felicity’s return, while the majority of Felicity’s emotional turmoil in the present is a result of everything she’s been through in the past, if that makes sense. So, there won’t be as many flashbacks in these chapters as there will be in Felicity’s.
> 
> Secondly, there will purposely be threads left dangling and unexplained from time to time, but they will be picked back up later. There’s one in particular in this chapter that I’ll talk more about at the end. 
> 
> Also, in one of the reviews, it was suggested I include a summary of The Storm after the Calm (hereafter referred to as SATC) since it's been so long. That is an excellent idea, so here it is!
> 
> So, essentially, SATC observed canon up until 2.07 in regards to the Olicity relationship. I'm taking some license where Sara's relationship with the League is concerned. The timeline was set up so that Felicity’s father was believed to have committed suicide six years ago, around the end of Oliver’s first year on the island. He was supposed to have faked his death on the plane Fyers planned to blow up, but Oliver stopped the explosion, and thus Felicity’s father was forced to fake his death through suicide. This puts SATC picking up seven years after Oliver was lost on the island. 
> 
> Over the course of SATC, Team Arrow worked to dismantle a human trafficking ring that was revealed to be a cover for a larger cyber-crime spree. This spree was eventually tied to Isabel Rochev and her plans to dismantle Queen Consolidated. Along the way, Team Arrow fought against Isabel’s cyber-crony, The Ghost, who was revealed to be Felicity’s not-so-dead father. Turns out, he faked his death on Isabel’s command and joined the League of Assassins to get trained. This meant he had a debt to pay off with the League. 
> 
> His deal with the League permitted him to work with Isabel, but he had to stay in hiding. Felicity’s association with the Arrow, though, brought him out of hiding to warn her away. He wanted her to work with him and Isabel, to be a part of the family he was building with Isabel. This prompted Sara to appear, assigned by the League to recapture their now-rogue asset. Sara deferred to Team Arrow’s mission, to the League’s chagrin. 
> 
> Felicity convinced Isabel she was on board with the plan to dismantle QC behind Oliver’s back, but she couldn’t convince her father. Felicity and her father ended up in a cyber battle for control of the Queen Consolidated database. Felicity won and they assumed all was well. Until she and Oliver went back to the Queen Mansion to find out Felicity’s father kidnapped Thea. He wanted a trade: Felicity for Thea. The team orchestrated Thea’s rescue, pretending to play into his plans. They saved Thea, but Isabel showed up, having tracked Felicity’s father’s location. She plans to shoot Felicity, thereby removing the blood loyalty in her father’s life. Instead, Felicity’s father saves her by taking the bullet. He dies, and Felicity is left to figure out how to deal with the grief all over again. She doesn’t get much time, though, because Nyssa appears with League force to tell Felicity her father’s debt is carrying over to her. She must go with the League or they will take her by force. Despite their efforts to skirt around the debt, Felicity caves and disappears in the middle of the night to go to Nanda Parbat.
> 
> Wow, written out like that, SATC was one twisty, dramatic orgy haha. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, read on!

**Chapter 3**

 

To say he’s floored is an understatement. In fact, he’s about to ask her to repeat the words, to be sure he heard them correctly, when Roy beats him to it.

  
“What’s a Ra’s al Ghul and why does it want you dead?”

  
In any other situation, someone would have cracked a smile. As it stands, their faces remain immobile, Felicity shifting uncomfortably and looking as though she wants to be anywhere else. She’s gotten steadily less controlled since she removed the mask and he isn’t sure what to make of it. Her aloof demeanor is cracking, but there’s no way of knowing what hides under the surface. She’s unpredictable, and he hates unpredictable variables. There’s too much potential for chaos and he’s finally back to stability, or as close to it as he’ll ever get.

* * *

 

  
_In his panic, he failed to check his phone, but he’s berating himself for that oversight now. His nerves are frayed as he powers on the device, waiting none-too-patiently for the messages to register._

  
_His heart soars at the indication of a voicemail message, but the feeling quickly dims as he listens to what she left him with. The choked apology dashes his last hope that she didn’t do what they’ve been fighting against. She gave up. She left him._

  
_Anger overtakes him, and he hurls the phone at the wall with a roar, the device shattering against the concrete. It lays broken on the ground as he collapses into Felicity’s chair and resigns himself to the realization that it’s all over._

* * *

 

 

“Ra’s is…” Felicity pauses, mulling over the best explanation for the man who ruined their lives. “I owed him a debt, but I ran before it was paid in full. Now, he’s sending the League after me and everyone I love. He’s already gotten to my mother and Sara. I can’t let him hurt anyone else.”

 

She looks to him beseechingly, real, true emotion in her eyes for the first time since her reappearance. There’s no wall up, no guard keeping her at least partially in check, no barrier between them. She’s looking at him almost like his Felicity used to, only with a greater edge of desperation. Whatever is going on, Ra’s has her well and truly terrified. But still… her explanation leaves a lot to be desired. For instance…

 

“Where have you been all this time?” Oliver demands, his voice harsh even to his ears. “You said on the roof that you were only with the League for eleven months.”

 

Felicity’s flinch is barely contained and her eyes slip away from his, settling on the floor. “I was… Sara and I were on the run. She came to me before our last mission for the League, told me that Ra’s planned to kill me once I’d outlived my usefulness. She said she wasn’t going to let that happen, that we weren’t returning.”

 

She falls silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought as she runs her hand lightly over the surface of the table she’s leaning against. The way she’s staring at it is almost as though she can’t believe it’s solid under her fingertips. Oliver has to fight the urge to reach out to her, to bring her back to the present. He’s spiraled in his own thoughts far too often not to understand what’s happening right now.

 

She comes back to reality with a visible start, scanning the foundry with alarm before relaxing back into the table with a cringe. “Sorry. Where was I?”

 

“You and Sara ran from the League,” Diggle supplies, eyebrows drawing together.

 

Felicity nods, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Right. We ran once we got out of Nanda Parbat. The plan was to get as far away as possible before they realized what we’d done, and then to leave the barest of trails to our location. It worked, for a while at least. We kept them focused on us, following our movements. Sara figured if they could track us, Ra’s wouldn’t resort to any… extraordinary measures.”

 

“What changed?”

 

Felicity inhales deeply, eyes clouding over. “I’m not sure. One day, they were hot on our trail, the next… Just when they were closing in, they backed off. Sara was convinced they were going for our families, so we got back to the US as fast as we could.”

 

“And you separated,” Oliver surmises, accusation at the fringes of his voice.

 

She swallows thickly. “Sara- _we_ thought it was best. We could cover more ground if she went to look in on Laurel while I went to check on my mother. When I got to my mother’s… the place was trashed. I was too late. And then Sara…” she pauses, her eyes starting to water before she takes a deep, fortifying breath and pushes the emotion aside. “We planned to meet in Starling three days ago, but she never showed.”

 

The gap between Digg’s eyebrows has all but disappeared by this point. “And you think Ra’s took them.”

 

Felicity nods. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. He wants a trade.”

 

The words hit Oliver like a punch to the gut, his eyes flying to meet hers. He just got her back and she’s already talking about trading herself away once again. Trading her life for her mother’s and Sara’s isn’t like committing to a year-long debt. This is permanent. If she does this, she’ll die.

 

“You can’t,” he blurts out before he can control himself. Try as he might to stay closed off, the thought of her walking calmly to her death isn’t one he can entertain.

 

She holds his gaze for a solid thirty seconds, surprise at his impassioned outburst breaking through the walls she’s still trying so desperately to prop up. Eventually, she tears her eyes from his and lowers them to the floor once more, ashamed. “I’m not.”

 

The statement jolts him back to reality. Felicity is always the first one to walk into danger for the ones she loves. The whole reason they’re in this position in the first place is because she refused to let him take on the debt himself. The Felicity he knew would never place her life above the lives of others.

 

It’s a stark reminder that this is _not_ his Felicity. His Felicity left him and, regardless of these brief glimpses of the woman beneath the surface, she isn’t coming back. Truthfully, he isn’t sure he even wants her to. She left with no more than an agonizing voicemail. She destroyed him in a way no other woman has managed to do, in a way he isn’t sure he can recover from. He can’t forget all of that just because she’s popped back up and announced she has a price on her head.

 

“Wait, back up a second,” Roy intervenes. “This Ra’s al Ghul person kidnapped your mother and Sara and wants you to trade your life for theirs, and you aren’t gonna do it?”

 

“When we left… Sara made me promise that, no matter what happened, I wouldn’t turn myself over to Ra’s,” Felicity explains morosely, pushing off the table and starting to pace. “She said it would all be for nothing if I turned myself over. I called her, after I realized my mother was gone. I was ready to return to Nanda Parbat right then, but Sara... We had a plan. Ra's had me working on some stuff and Sara was convinced we could use it against him so I didn't have to turn myself over.”

 

“But that was before Sara was taken as well,” Digg points out.

 

“That’s why I’m here,” she admits, fingers twitching toward her collapsed staff nervously. “We planned to find you guys after we checked up on my mom and Laurel, to figure out the best course of action to take Ra's down, but with Sara gone… She’d kill me before Ra’s has the chance if I turn myself over now, and I can’t do this alone. I need your help.” She stops, turns to face him. Her eyes are once again completely open, pleading. “Please.”

 

“How are we supposed to help you, exactly?” Roy wonders, drawing her attention away from Oliver. “I mean, I’m sorry, but if two of its members can’t even escape the League, what chance do _we_ stand?”

 

"A better one than if I go it alone," Felicity responds softly, eyes falling to the ground once more.

 

His head is spinning, never managing to land on one thought for long before bouncing on to the next. A couple of hours ago, he was going through the motions, taking part in his daily routine, existing. Now, his entire world has been upended and thrust back into chaos. 

* * *

 

 

_“Hey, man. What time did you guys get in?” Digg’s voice breaks into his stupor and Oliver’s eyes snap up to his friend. He doesn’t know. “Oliver?”_

_He tries, but can’t quite get the words out. Once he says it aloud, it’s real._

_“What’s going on?” Digg probes, stepping toward the computer desk. The man takes in Oliver’s slumped form, the broken phone in the corner. “Where’s Felicity?”_

_Oliver’s eyes fall to the floor, staring but not seeing. Everything is a blur, Felicity’s choked apology ringing in his ears._

_“She’s gone.”_

* * *

 

“Look, I’ll give you guys some time to think it over… talk about it,” Felicity says, shifting her weight.

 

The awkward tension returns at her acknowledgment that she has no place in their decision. Last year, she would have played a key part in deciding their next course of action; she would have come in with the information and they wouldn’t have questioned it. Last year, things were vastly different.

 

But that doesn’t change the fact that people are missing. Felicity’s mother. Sara. He can’t let personal injury stand in the way of helping people who need it.

 

“Felicity,” he bites out before she can take more than a couple of steps to the exit. She swivels her head back to him, the smallest glimmer of hope in her eyes. “We don’t need to think about it. Your mother and Sara need help. We’ll help them.”

 

Her eyes fall shut and her shoulders slump as though invisible strings holding them taut have been cut. “Thank you.”

 

His eyes find Digg’s and the other man nods to him in affirmation. They’re on the same page with this, at least.

 

That settled, he turns to Roy and runs a hand through his hair. “If you don’t want to be involved in this…”

 

Roy doesn’t even let him finish. “I go where you go.”

 

The statement is so simple, so matter-of-fact, that Oliver has to take a second to absorb the true meaning of the words. Somewhere in all of the growing pains they’ve experienced since Felicity left and Roy joined the team, the kid has grown to trust and respect him. He’s willing to follow him into this storm even though he’s expressed his doubt about their success against the League.

 

“If you want out-”

 

“I won’t,” Roy cuts him off resolutely, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Oliver nods in acceptance at the young man before turning to snatch his street clothes off the back of Felicity’s computer chair. He’s never quite been able to stop referring to it as _hers_ , even after Diggle took up her position behind the monitors. It still surprises him when the chair swivels to reveal his burly brother instead of his… Felicity. He wishes it would stop hitting him like a punch to the gut but it never does.

 

Clenching his jaw, he pushes all thoughts of the past year away and heads back to change out of his Arrow gear. Before he can get far, his eyes catch on Felicity where she stands halfway between the table she’d been leaning against and the staircase. She looks uncomfortable and out of place, two things he never thought he’d see in connection to her down here. No matter what was going on, the foundry was always the one place she appeared completely unguarded. Yet another thing that’s changed.

 

“It’s late. We’ll start fresh tomorrow,” he decides. “Get some sleep. All of you.”

 

Her eyes flick up to meet his and he catches the repressed scoff in them. He understands the instinct to mock an order to sleep after you’ve been through hell. The simplicity of the command grates on the nerves, like going to sleep is so easy. After living nightmares every day, the last thing you want is to close your eyes and fall captive to them in your dreams as well. His own nightmares have been plaguing him worse than ever since she left. It’s gotten to the point that closing his eyes is something he once again dreads rather than welcomes. Given her reaction, she feels the same way. Neither of them will be getting much rest tonight.

 

The realization jars him, even though it shouldn’t, and he tears his eyes away from hers. She looks outwardly the same, but the little things like the look in her eyes and her instinctual reaction to the unexpected keep proving that the Felicity he knew, the Felicity he loves, is gone. He can’t stand to keep looking at her when he can’t really see her.

 

When he gets to the washroom in the back, he splashes some water on his face, trying to calm himself. The eyes staring back at him when he looks in the mirror are swirling, too conflicted to settle on one emotion for long. Taking a deep breath, he pushes his emotional reactions aside. She’s thrown him for a loop, but it’s time he reigns himself back in.

 

The feat is made easier when he emerges from the back to find only Diggle and Roy left in the foundry. His gut clenches despite his resolve to stay unattached.

 

“Where’s Felicity?” He asks, trying to keep his tone neutral. His voice cracks on her name, though, earning him a longer look from Diggle than is strictly necessary.

 

“She headed out,” Roy answers, pulling at the ties and zipper of his suit.

 

She’s only been back in his life for a few hours and she’s already left without a goodbye. Again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, man. How are you taking all this?” Diggle asks, eyeing Oliver from across the table. The two men have been silent since Roy left, Diggle refusing to leave even though Oliver insisted he should.

 

“I’m fine,” he bites out gruffly, scrubbing aggressively at a blood stain on the arm of his Arrow suit. Diggle doesn’t reply, just studies him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms until he cracks. Letting the suit fall to the table, Oliver sighs. “I’ll _be_ fine.”

 

“You sure about that? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Oliver scoffs. “I have.”

 

“Isn’t that a bit… drastic? We didn’t think she died when she left, Oliver.”

 

“But for all we knew she could have!” He snaps, clenching his hands into fists. “When she didn’t show back up after the year…”

 

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for his friend to know what he’s getting at. They both thought it, even though they never spoke of it. He’s sure Roy wondered what was going on when the year came and went and the two of them got increasingly on edge. With each passing day that Felicity failed to reappear, they lost more and more hope that she was ever going to return. Eventually, they settled into a routine, accepting that she likely never would.

 

And now she’s here, and he has no idea what to do with that.

 

* * *

 

 

_He stays at the foundry for three days straight, trying to convince himself that running searches for her isn’t fruitless. She’ll crop up; he and Diggle will track her down and stop her from making this huge mistake. They’ll go somewhere Ra’s can’t find them, just the two of them. They’ll escape before the League has a chance to tarnish her. They’ll…_

_“You can’t keep doin’ this to yourself, man,” Diggle interrupts, startling him. The very fact that Digg can get the drop on him speaks to how far gone he is. “You have to go home, get some sleep. Thea’s probably worried about you.”_

_Oliver nods without really agreeing. Anything to put a stop to this conversation he doesn’t want to have. He won’t admit it. He can’t._

_“Oliver, we’ve been looking for three days and the only thing we turned up was the video of them entering the airport. We need-” He stops himself from finishing the sentence but Oliver still flinches. They need Felicity. “We have to accept that she’s gone, and she doesn’t want to be found.”_

* * *

 

 

Eventually, Oliver makes it back to the mansion. It’s nearly five in the morning, so he’ll only be able to grab a couple of hours’ sleep, but in the grand scheme of things that’s all he’d be able to manage anyways, so it doesn’t really matter. Of course, that’s assuming he’s even able to get his mind to shut down long enough to fall asleep. Hopefully his wind-down work-out was enough to exhaust him into dreamless peace.

 

“Ollie?” Thea’s sleepy voice doesn’t manage to startle him, but the fact that she even heard him come in does surprise him.

 

“Speedy! What are you doing awake?”

 

Thea cocks an eyebrow, managing to exude sass even half-asleep. “I could ask you the same question.”

 

“I was… working late,” he supplies, sure he isn’t convincing in the least.

 

As expected, his sister rolls her eyes. “Sure you were. You know, when I said I hoped losing Felicity didn’t turn you back into your old self, I didn’t mean I hoped it would turn you into someone else entirely.”

 

Oliver’s fingers twitch, rubbing together in agitation. He is not up for this conversation right now. “Speedy…”

 

Thea holds up a hand to stop his warning. “No, I know, we’ve had this talk before. I just wish you weren’t still so consumed by this.”

 

“It’s not that simple, Thea,” he snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose. It only takes a couple of seconds to apologize, citing his exhaustion for his unusually short fuse. His words are defeated, shoulders slumping and drawing closer scrutiny from his sister.

 

“Ollie… did something happen?”

 

* * *

 

 

_“Ollie!” Thea chirps, nearly skipping down the hall to meet him, flowered skirt swishing around her legs. “I thought I heard you! It’s been awhile, big brother.”_

_She says it suggestively, complete with a wink and a nudge, but Oliver can’t muster enough emotion to even try to play along. He has no effort left to fake it for her sake._

_Thea frowns at his lack of response. “Everything OK, Ollie? You look like shit.”_

_That gets a small huff of the barest amusement. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Speedy.”_

_“I never do!” She admits breezily. “Seriously, though, what’s going on? Where’s Felicity?”_

_“Gone.”_

_His sister stops in her tracks, hand flashing out to pull him to a stop as well. “What?”_

_Sighing heavily, he half-turns back to her. “She’s gone, Thea.”_

_Admitting it out loud hurts far more than he thought it would. Invisible knives are stabbing into his gut, destroying him bit by bit. She’s gone, and for all he knows she’s not coming back. After everything, she made this decision for both of them and dropped off the map._

_“Where? Why?” Thea demands, her fingernails biting into his arm. He can barely feel the pain. “I don’t understand, Ollie.”_

_He manages to muster one more half-truth for her sake. “She has some… family stuff to take care of.”_

_“Ok, so she’s coming back, then.”_

_Oliver swallows thickly. “I’m not so sure about that.”_

_Her brows tug together. “What do you mean? None of this makes any sense.”_

_Exhausted, Oliver finally surrenders. “I’m tired, Speedy. Can we talk about this some other time?”_

_He isn’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes or the slump of his shoulders, but Thea nods, releasing his arm and allowing him to retreat to his bedroom. Once he closes the door behind him, the first thing he does is light a fire. Eventually, he drifts off on the floor in front of it._

* * *

 

“Why would you ask that?” He asks, stalling.

 

His sister’s eyes narrow as she crosses her arms. “You seem… off. Plus, you’re evading the question. What is it?”

 

“Nothing, Speedy. I’m just tired.”

 

“Well, you should be, considering you’ve been out all night.” She sounds like their mother right then and Oliver nearly teases her about it, but her next words take the playfulness out of him as soon as it appears. “But that’s not it. You’re always out late at night, but you never come back looking or sounding like this. Something’s gotten you shaken up.”

 

Suddenly, Oliver is exhausted. He’s tired of it all: of lying, of keeping everything bottled up. He just has to say the words, to let _someone_ know his world has gone spinning into chaos once again.

 

“Felicity’s back.”

 

Thea blinks, her head snapping in obvious shock. “Back?”

 

He nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

 

“She just… showed up?”

 

“Yeah, at Verdant.”

 

“She just… popped in? No warning?”

 

Another nod.

 

“What did she say? Did she explain why she’s been gone so long?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And?” Thea pries.

 

“It’s not… it’s complicated.”

 

“No, it’s not,” she scoffs. “She ditched you last year with no warning and no contact. You had no idea where she was or when she was coming back. It’s not “complicated” when she shows back up. It’s simple. Either her explanation was worth it or it wasn’t.”

 

Oliver flinches at his sister’s harsh outlook. Part of him knows she’s right, but at the same time, she doesn’t have the full picture like he does. Felicity may have put him through hell this past year, but she’s been lost in a hell of her own. It _is_ complicated, no matter how simple the circumstances may seem.

 

“Ollie…” Thea pauses, her voice softening as she reaches out to squeeze his forearm. “You’re my big brother, and I love you. I’ll always support you. But Felicity… she destroyed you. I’ve never seen you like this over a woman. Hell, I haven’t seen you like this since you came back from the island. I don’t want to see you like this ever again. If getting involved with her is going to inevitably throw you right back into the spiral you’re only now clawing your way out of, steer clear.”

 

It takes him a second to digest what his sister just told him, but when he finally does, he can’t help the defensive instinct. “I didn’t say anything about that.”

 

“No, but I know you, Ollie, and I know how happy she made you. You loved her. You still do. But is it worth the pain if she leaves again?”

 

“It’s way too soon to be thinking about any of that,” he deflects, her words hitting too close to home. “She just got back, and there’s no telling where her head’s at. I don’t even know where _my_ head is at.”

 

His sister’s smile is sympathetic when she finally relents. “Fine. Just… think about what I said, OK? Promise me you’ll be careful?”

 

“Always, Speedy.”

 

With that, Thea heads back to her room and he proceeds to his. When he closes the door behind him, the first thing he does is light a fire. In time, Oliver manages to drift into an uneasy sleep on the floor in front of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, once again thank you for your reviews and support!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ugh, I am so sorry guys. I've been meaning to post this, but life has been NUTS lately. I got an actual adult job! So that's kept me very busy and cut into my writing time. I'm slowly developing a balance though, so hopefully I won't take as long next time.

**Chapter 4**

 

She scales the fire escape back to the roof as soon as she gets outside, mind already whirling. It hadn’t gone according to plan, but the wheels are still in motion. They agreed to help her; so what if it had gone a little awry along the way? Making amends was always the first thing she intended to do when she returned, but now, with everything going on, it can’t be her first priority. Maybe, after all this is through, after her mother and Sara are safely home, she can try to explain and earn back the trust she’s lost.

 

Or maybe she should leave it alone. She isn’t the same woman Oliver loved, and she’s pretty sure he is now a different man. Is he seeing someone? Does he want to be? Sara once told Felicity that, even if the timing had been such that they could have attempted to reconcile when Sara revealed herself to be alive, she and Oliver wouldn’t have worked. The two are shrouded in darkness, unable to pull themselves out of it, let alone each other. Now, Felicity is falling victim to the same blackness, slowly tumbling down into the shadowy depths, unable to grab hold of anything to climb back out. Does that mean she and Oliver no longer work? Will the people they are now mesh as well as the people they _were_? Perhaps she sacrificed any chance of them being together when she disappeared in the dawn without a trace.

 

Shaking her head, Felicity pulls herself the rest of the way onto the roof and pauses to get her head back in the game. She needs to focus on the problem she can do something to solve instead of wasting time trying (or perhaps it's wanting) to be the woman Oliver and Diggle remember. She has to embrace who she is now, because _that_ person is the one who will save her mother and Sara. Decision made, she takes a running start and leaps across the gap between buildings, disappearing into the night with single-minded focus.

 

* * *

 

 

_They board the plane in the harsh light of day, giving Felicity enough time to thoroughly second guess her decision. What if they could have found another way? What if leaving like this is premature? What if Ra’s wouldn’t have come for her loved ones? What if-_

_“Stop overthinking it,” Sara instructs, eyes sliding in every direction all at once. She’s assessing their surroundings yet still manages to pick up on Felicity’s doubts, which, yes, is pretty damn impressive. Maybe the League will teach her how to do that…_

_The thought sobers her. “Overthinking what?”_

_Sara shoots her a look out of the corner of her eye. “What’s done is done. It’s too late to back out now.”_

_Felicity heaves out a breath, hiking her duffel bag higher on her shoulder. They’d stopped at her apartment to grab some necessities, half of which Sara informed her were not actually necessary. In the end, she left with some jeans, sweats, jackets, underwear, and tank tops, along with a few toiletries such as toothpaste and deodorant. And Oliver’s sweater. She blatantly refused to leave that behind._

_“Ra’s would have come for him, Thea, Diggle…” Sara trails off, stopping their trek through the bustling airport after dodging a family of four. Her blonde hair whips around with the momentum and Felicity stops short. “Your mother would have been the first one he went for. Ra’s may operate under a code that spares innocents from harm, but there are ways around that. He may not have physically hurt her, but he wouldn’t have left her alone. You’re doing the right thing.”_

_It takes her a moment to absorb what Sara’s saying, but once she does, Felicity swallows thickly and nods. She’s right. Of course she’s right. This is the only option if she wants to protect the people she loves._

* * *

“Detective Lance,” she calls out, stepping carefully into the nearly deserted precinct. It’s so late, or perhaps early, that she would be surprised to find him here if she hadn’t staked the place out the past couple of nights to get a feel for his routine. The lone occupant’s head snaps up at the first indication of her presence, the man half-risen from his chair already. She’s glad she divested herself of the wig and mask prior to calling out, unable to bear it if his eyes had lit in recognition of who he thought was his daughter.

 

“Miss Smoak,” he exhales, dropping into the chair and leaning back. His fingers lace over his slightly pronounced stomach as he waits for her to explain herself. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

 

She shifts, uncomfortable at the attention he’s drawing to her absence. “I’ve been… away.”

 

“With my daughter, it seems.”

 

Felicity flinches as he gestures to her leather costume. “Yes.”

 

The tense silence she’s growing used to settles between them until Lance breaks it by leaning forward and propping his forearms on the desk. The movement brings his graying hair, thinner than the last time she saw him, into focus. “What’s happened to her?”

 

Felicity blinks. “What do you-”

 

“Don’t play games with me,” he snaps, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m not stupid. You both disappear a little over a year ago, not a trace, and suddenly you pop up, wearin’ her clothes… and you expect me to believe everythin’s fine? Where is my daughter?”

 

So no skirting the issue, then. “I don’t know.”

 

Lance’s face falls right along with Felicity’s gut at the admission. She had one job, one thing to do for Sara in return for everything her friend has done for her, and she failed.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Where are we even going?” She asks, hurrying to catch up with Sara. For having such short legs, the woman can_ move _. She’s grateful Sara at least made her ditch the heels she’d been wearing._

_“To a private hangar.”_

_“A private- The League has its own hangar?” The information shouldn’t astonish her, but it does. She barely catches the amused tilt of Sara’s lips when the other woman glances back at her. “So, what, we just get on Air to the Demon and take off? How does that even work? Aren’t there, like, flight itineraries and passenger manifests that need to be turned in?”_

_Sara’s lips grow into a full-on amused smirk now. “You’re cute.”_

_Nyssa is waiting for them at the gate, fingers knitted together. She looks almost… regal. At any rate, at least she ditched the League garb in favour of dark jeans, a tank top, and a leather jacket. “You are late.”_

_Sara rolls her eyes, coming to a stop in front of the woman. “By three minutes.”_

_“It does not matter. Late is late.”_

_The two women stare each other down for a solid minute, Felicity holding her breath the entire time. She’d be lying if she said the tension isn’t making her anxious. Nyssa is a formidable presence, but Sara is matching her bit for bit. Sometimes, it’s too easy to forget that Sara is a trained assassin just like Nyssa. Soon, she will be, too. The thought terrifies her on multiple levels. She has no idea what she’s really in store for, but she’s about to immerse herself in the world her father was lost in. He drowned in the League for Isabel and, if he’s to be believed, her. What if Nanda Parbat does the same to her, systematically stripping away everything that makes her… her? She isn’t sure she can stand facing Oliver, Diggle, Thea, and her mother in a year if she’s unrecognizable._

_She’s starting to understand her father a lot better already._

_A movement draws her out of her internal spiral and her eyes flick up to see a smile breaking out on Nyssa’s face. Alarmed, Felicity looks to Sara to see her also giving in to a smile. Apparently, this is some sort of private joke between them, and not an actual conflict._

_“Hey,” Sara says to her quietly once Nyssa disappears inside the plane. “I’m going to take care of you, Felicity. You’ll be ok.”_

_Sucking in air, Felicity nods. “Sara, tha-”_

_“Don’t thank me,” she cuts her off, anticipating Felicity’s next words._

_“Then I’ll take care of you, too,” she says instead, pausing before shaking her head. “I realize that doesn’t mean much since I’m, you know, me… but I’ve got your back.”_

_Sara smiles, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re strong, Felicity. You’re a fighter, and you’re going to survive this. Trust me.”_

* * *

“Detective Lance-”

 

“It’s Captain now,” he informs her, looking off to the side and scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “So you’re tellin’ me my daughter’s missin’?”

 

Felicity’s eyes flutter shut and she huffs out a slow breath. “Yes. She, um… we were supposed to meet in the city but she never showed. She didn’t come to visit you at all?”

 

Lance takes a second to reply, lost in his own thoughts. She can’t blame him. The revelation that the daughter he thought dead until almost two years ago is now missing isn’t one she really wanted to deliver, but it had to be done. Finally, he recovers enough to shake his head, his eyes misting over. “N-no. I haven’t heard from her since she left last year.”

 

“Dete-” She takes a step toward him before stopping to correct herself. “Captain.”

 

Lance’s eyes find hers, lost and anguished, and Felicity recoils. Where she instinctually moved forward to comfort him a moment ago, she now stands awkwardly, fists clenching by her sides. She isn’t really sure what to do. The woman she was a year ago would have closed the distance and offered Lance a hug, or squeezed his forearm, or done anything to connect him to the present when he’s clearly lost in the past, but this Felicity can’t do that. It’s not even her place to try. She is the reason he’s in this position to begin with. Sara wouldn’t be missing if not for her. This is her fault.

 

Felicity’s eyes squeeze shut against the guilt assaulting her. By the time she looks back up, Lance is staring into the distance, still just as lost. She tries once more to reach out to him, but falters halfway through the gesture. Instead, she settles on, “I’ll find her, Captain.”

 

He says nothing until she’s almost out the door, his voice making her freeze even though she doesn’t turn. “Alone?”

 

The concern in his voice nearly breaks her. Even after everything she just dumped on him, he’s still worried for her.

 

“I won’t be alone.” Even though the words come out of her mouth, she doesn’t feel the truth of them. She may have help from Oliver, Diggle, and Roy, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t alone. She’s never felt more alone than she does right now.

 

* * *

 

_Nanda Parbat is… different than she expected. The way Sara talked about it, she pictured bleak, barely lit hallways and cold, stone dungeons. Instead, the candlelight gives off a warm glow that seems almost… intimate. There’s red everywhere, which should be morbid, but it only adds to the effect. It’s oddly beautiful._

_“Ra’s al Ghul will see you now,” Nyssa tells her, claiming her attention from where she’s gaping at her surroundings._

_Felicity blinks, looks to Sara._

_“You will go in alone.”_

_She tries not to panic at that statement, but she must fail miserably because Sara reaches out and clasps her hand firmly. “You’ll be fine.”_

_She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and returns the pressure to Sara’s hand to signify that she’s ready. Before she can talk herself out of it, she strides purposefully into the chamber to meet her fate._

_“Miss Smoak. I am glad you have decided to join us.”_

* * *

“Hey, thanks for letting me use your shower,” Felicity calls out as she exits the bathroom. She has a limited supply of clothes, but the fresh jeans and dark purple tank top help her feel more grounded in the present.

 

“No problem. Any friend of Sara's...” comes the reply. Felicity spends half a minute towelling her hair off before Sin comes to lean on the doorframe. “Sorry the water’s not great. The Glades suck.”

 

Felicity shrugs, moving to fish her brush out of her bag and dropping the towel on top. “It’s no big. I’ve spent the last year taking lukewarm baths in candlelight. A shower is… great.”

 

Sin studies her for a minute, brows furrowing, before finally asking, “Where _were_ you and Sara? I mean, she’s told me bits and pieces of her life outside Starling, but she never goes into detail.”

 

Felicity tries to smile but it comes out more of a grimace. “There’s a reason for that.”

 

The two fall silent, Felicity dragging a brush through her hair and sticking contacts in without looking in the mirror while Sin busies herself opening a drawer and shuffling some clothes around. Finally, Sin pauses and looks back up at Felicity, the younger girl’s eyes betraying her anxiety. “Sara’s… she’s the only family I’ve got. You’ll find her, right?”

 

She hasn’t given Sin the details, just a vague outline that Sara is missing. Even telling her that much isn’t what Felicity intended when she first returned, but the girl happened upon her in the clock tower her first night in town and mistook her for Sara. She had to say _something_. Plus, Sin is one of a few people Sara would risk exposing her presence to, a fact which couldn’t be ignored in the search for the other blonde. Unsurprisingly, Sin is eager to help, wanting to do anything she can. In order to keep her out of it, Felicity bargained for the use of the girl as her eyes and ears in the Glades on the off chance something is mentioned regarding Sara. Hopefully, it keeps Sin out of the line of fire yet satisfies her need to feel like she’s doing something to help.

 

Felicity nods, stopping short of reaching out once more.

 

Sin gives her a forced smile, trying to lighten the mood. "No leather get-up today?"

 

Grasping the branch the younger woman is extending, Felicity pastes a grin on her own face. "Afraid not. I'm meeting with some... associates to figure out our next move. I don't think that warrants wearing a mask."

 

"So you're meeting with Roy and the Arrow," Sin guesses, nodding along. "Good."

 

It surprises Felicity that Sin seems to know a lot more about Roy's night life than she suspects Thea does. Then again, Oliver has a say in what Roy tells Thea, but he has no place to force Roy to keep quiet around Sin. The kid probably needs someone outside it all to talk to. 

 

"I should get going," she tells Sin, zipping the bag and slipping it over her shoulder. She snatches Sara's leather jacket from its place on the bed and folds it over one arm; it's too warm for a jacket right now. "Thanks again, Sin."

 

"Anytime," the younger woman responds, shoving her hands in the pockets of her skinny jeans and looking at the floor almost bashfully. "You know, if you want... You could crash on my couch. It's gotta be better than the clock tower."

 

This time, the smile on Felicity's face is genuine but filled with melancholy. "I wish I could take you up on that, but I would never put you in that kind of danger. The people coming after me... I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of my choices."

 

Sin chuckles without amusement. "That's what Sara used to say."

 

* * *

 

 

By the time she gets to the foundry's entrance, she's forgotten about the lock. She tugs on the door in vain before finally giving up and pulling a burner phone from her pocket. Her thumb hovers over the buttons for a brief moment, trying to decide who to call to let her in. She has the tech to hack the keypad, but there's a reason she's being kept out, and she'd rather not stir things up by forcing her way past Oliver's guard. Eventually deciding on Diggle, she keys his number into the phone from memory and hits send. 

 

Two minutes later, the door clicks open to reveal him dressed, as always, in a leather jacket and jeans. At least that hasn't changed. Neither has his proclivity for few words, as his only invitation inside is a jerk of the head and a step back. Taking the hint, she follows him down the stairs to see Roy and Oliver sparring on the mats. Where she would have stopped and taken the sight in before, now she walks right past it, not distracted by the sounds of grunting and whacking as she once was. Sparring was a regular occurrence in all areas of Nanda Parbat, and she learned quickly to ignore it if she meant to get any real work done.

 

* * *

 

 

_She bristles at his words. "You speak as though I had a choice in coming here."_

_Ra's smiles, or as close to it as she imagines he ever comes. It's too malicious to be considered a true smile, and it raises goosebumps along her arms. The effect is only compounded by his voice when he replies, "Oh, yes, you did. You could have chosen death, like your father. Instead..." He pauses, gestures around the room with spread fingers, palms raised to the ceiling. "You are here."_

_Felicity swallows, or maybe it's gulps. She wishes Sara were here, but that’s not going to happen. She_ really _wishes Oliver were here, but that's_ definitely _not going to happen, so she'd better just suck it up. Time to pretend this man (is he a man?) isn't intimidating her in the least._

_"So, now that I am... What next? Why did you want me here?"_

_"I did not simply want you here, Ms. Smoak. I_ require  _your skills."_

 

_"For what?" She snaps, irritated at the pains he went through to make the distinction. It's as though he believes that makes it alright to implicitly threaten her loved ones._

_"In time, you will know, Ms. Smoak," he replies cryptically, his eyes focused on where his fingers run down the polished, wooden armrest of his... throne? "First, you must train."_

_She speaks out on impulse, trusting her instinct to make_ this  _particular clarification. "And my training... that's included in the debt, correct?"_

_His fingers still and he looks up at her, all laser focus and intensity. "I do not understand your meaning."_

_"The debt starts now, right?" She asks, nerves threatening to break through. "Not once I'm trained to your standards."_

_Ra's lifts a single eyebrow. The expression adds another layer of menace to the man she didn't think was possible, the opposite effect of when Oliver does it. "That is not our usual practice."_

_"This is not your usual circumstance," Felicity retorts, finding her backbone once more._

_"How so?"_

 

_"You need me for my skillset. You said it yourself. My combat skills have no impact on my abilities with a computer. I can do what you need me to starting right now, so I see no reason to delay the beginning of the debt. Besides, I already possess intermediate hand-to-hand skills."_

_She stops herself before she can say too much. Her mouth could get her into a lot of trouble with these people, if it hasn't already. By the way Ra's is staring her down, unblinking, she fears she might have overstepped a bit, but she had to try. The thought of being gone longer than a year does not sit well with her._

_Finally, just when she's starting to squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny, Ra's laughs. Booming, raucous, full-belly laughter. Felicity tries to control her reaction, but fails as she stumbles back half a step in shock. Ra's al Ghul is... laughing at her?_

_When he manages to calm himself, amusement lingers around the corners of his mouth and crinkles his eyes, both terrifying and strangely innocent._

_"Very well. Your debt begins right this moment," he acquiesces before all traces of amusement vanish from his features. He leans forward, turning Felicity's blood cold. "However… The very fact that you believe yourself to possess intermediate ability in combat proves how naive you are, Ms. Smoak. You will be cured of that before you leave here. I promise."_

 

* * *

 

 

Striding purposefully to her computer chair, she ignores John's gaze cautiously tracking her across the basement. The presence of Roy's suit across from Oliver's still surprises her, as do the new processors attached to her babies. She hadn't noticed them last night.

 

"You guys upgraded?" She asks Diggle. Roy and Oliver didn't break a stride when they entered and don't seem to be pausing now, either.

 

He nods, crossing his arms. "Lyla scored them from ARGUS."

 

Felicity nods appreciatively, eyes raking over the connections out of habit. Everything seems in order. "Nice."

 

The approval eases a bit of the tension lingering between them, as though Diggle was worried she might be angry they changed her system. Of course, there's still the huge elephant in the room that neither of them want to address.

 

She opens her mouth to say... something, but snaps it closed when a thought occurs to her. Tilting her head, she studies her friend. "Who's running it?"

 

He doesn't even flinch. "I am."

 

_That_  shocks her. "What? Why?"

 

"I'm scaling things back. Taking fewer risks."

 

That doesn't sound like the John Diggle she knows. Or is it _knew_?

 

"Yeah, fatherhood turned him into a softy," Roy chimes in through labored breath. She glances over to see him squirting water alternately into his mouth and all over his face when his words fully register.

 

"Wait, _what_?" She demands, snapping back to Diggle. "You're... Lyla...?"

 

She isn't sure if he tries to control it, but a slow smile spreads across Diggle's face as he nods. "Yeah, Lyla and I have a baby."

 

Felicity blinks, more than a little overwhelmed. Diggle has a baby. Diggle is a father. One of her best friends had a child and she missed it. The entire thing happened while she was gone. If she hadn't come back, she wouldn't have known at all. 

 

"I..." She stumbles around something to say. "Wow. That's... unexpected."

 

Diggle snorts. "For you and me both. Less so, now that I've had eleven months to get accustomed to the idea, though."

 

It's a joke. An honest attempt to lighten the mood when it should have automatically darkened. In this moment, as her lips stretch into a genuine smile, she loves John Diggle more than words. 

 

"Congratulations, John."

 

If any of them notice that she doesn't reach out to hug him, no one says anything.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: And there you have it! The first chapter is shorter than the other chapters will be. Thank you to those who stuck around long enough to see this finally posted. Thoughts are always welcome!


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